Read Cheating on Myself for Free Online Page B

looking for spontaneous, off-limits sex.” Anders grinned, and the look on his face had me worried. “You just need to shake it up a little, roomie.”
    “I’m not shaking anything until my ass shrinks back down to an acceptable size,” I said, laughing. “I’m getting myself put back together and then we can talk.”
    Lily raised her glass. “I propose a toast… to convincing Stella her ass is in perfect shaking shape and to Cat’s comfortable celibacy.” We all clinked, and I felt a whole lot better than I had in weeks.
     

 
     
    CHAPTER THREE
     
    I stood in front of a locker at the Y, slowly pulling out my swimsuit and towel as naked, elderly women strutted around the locker room chatting. I carefully pulled off my shirt, then wrapped a towel around my curvy body as I discreetly slipped my bra and panties off and pulled on my one-piece. Looking down, I realized I hadn’t waxed in over a month. Surveying my surroundings, I quickly decided that just didn’t matter. It wasn’t like I was at water aerobics to meet men.
    I’d been reluctant to meet with the massage therapist in Anders’ office, but in the spirit of turning over a new leaf and getting well, I’d gone to see her the day after our drinks marathon. Anders had been right. Forty-five minutes in therapist Sue’s tiny, fragrant office had made me feel like a different person. Sue had focused on “muscle release” and stretching, and I was pretty sure I now wanted to marry my therapist, just so I could bring her home with me every night. We’d gotten to talking during the session, and I’d told her my goal was to get back to exercising shape.
    “Water aerobics,” Sue had said, pulling my foot gently toward the wall. “Trust me. It’s going to change your life.”
    I did trust her, and that’s the only reason I was at the Y at seven in the morning the next Tuesday. I’d never been a pre-work exerciser—Erik and I always went together after work because it helped him sleep better if he went later in the day—but old people must have learned life lessons on the value of getting up early and getting exercise out of the way since all the pool classes were offered in the pre-dawn hours.
    I stifled a yawn as I stepped into the shower room. I let the water run over my head, matting my dark curls into tight ringlets that clung close to my head instead of staying puffed up like a muffin (the usual morning ’do).
    “You don’t have to get your hair wet,” a raspy voice said from across the tiled room. “Just rinse off the lady bits and you’re in business. That’s all they really need you to do.”
    “Thanks,” I said, swallowing back a laugh.
    The woman who had spoken was no more than five feet tall and weighed much less than Cat. Her swimsuit hung off her wiry frame, and she looked to be in her seventies. She was grinning at me. “You’re here for class?” she asked, sizing me up. “Good for you. It’s not a grueling workout since half of us have arthritis, but you can make it something if you make the effort. I’m Heather.”
    “Stella,” I said. “This is my first time doing water aerobics.”
    “No shit, Stella.” Heather reached for my arm. “Walk me out to the pool. I can’t rely on any of these other old bitches to help me out, so it’s good you’re here.” She and I shuffled toward the pool door together, and I felt her soft arm flesh rubbing against my own. It made me think of my grandmas, who’d both died when I was still a kid, and I suddenly felt a lot happier about my decision to come to water aerobics.
    “Are you injured?” She stopped and looked me over. “You look like you work out—you’ve got a nice figure, and praise Jesus, you don’t look like one of those awful, skinny mannequins—but I’ve never seen you in class before.”
    “I think I love you,” I told Heather, laughing about her nice figure remark. I opened the door between the locker room and the pool for both of us, and we shuffled